


endurance

by AsheCorinthos



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Angst, COVID-19, Coronavirus, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fear, Finally, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Long-Distance Relationship, Long-Term Relationship(s), Pandemics, References to Depression, Reunions, Sad, Separation Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29026344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsheCorinthos/pseuds/AsheCorinthos
Summary: —It really feels like such a long time since she’s seen him.
Relationships: Kagamine Len/Kagamine Rin
Kudos: 12





	endurance

Her hands are freezing.

Rin's fingers, even though buried deep in the depths of her fuzzy coat pockets, feel like icicles clenched tight into fists. Her breath comes out in tiny puffs, fogging up her glasses easily with the mask on her face.

The sun has barely risen. Somewhere in the back of her mind she recalls it's just past seven AM, but time stopped mattering awhile ago. It could be four in the afternoon and it'd still be just as dark.

The chilly December wind whips past her, sending her huddling deeper into her coat, but she doesn't make for shelter. Instead, she stands outside an airport terminal, anxiously shifting from foot to foot and braving herself to go in.

It really feels like such a long time since she's seen him.

A year. In retrospect, it isn't exactly the longest amount of time to go without seeing someone— but when that person is your fiance who lives in another country, even just a month is an eternity.

It's funny what a worldwide pandemic can do to families.

Readjusting her mask better on her nose, Rin finally begins the short trek into the heated building, pulling the edges of her coat closer into her chest and ducking her head, trying to avoid sliding into someone's personal space.

Being out in public like this is so strange. It invokes a mystery nostalgia for a time not so far behind her, when the world didn't require masks and a virus didn't change everything about daily life.

Sure, she works. In fact, she has a crappy retail job where dealing with people is a normality and she can't avoid being in contact with strangers. The flipside being, she hasn't gone out otherwise save for groceries. Malls, restaurants— she hasn't seen what the inside of a McDonalds looks like since a year before.

Which makes this moment of realization that things are going slowly back to normal feel even more surreal. A light in the endless darkness she'd been in since the very beginning.

The last time she'd seen Len was right after visiting him. Their tearful goodbye hadn't meant to be a _year_ 's worth of tears. In fact, they were supposed to get married and be living together by now. When she'd kissed him goodbye and sent him on his way back home, there hadn't been anything even remotely close to something like this envisioned in her mind when she'd said she would see him soon.

The separation that was only supposed to last three months lasted a year, and could've been even longer. But here they are, almost exactly twelve months since the last time they saw each other, finally bridging the gap that had kept them apart. And her heart was racing like the very first time.

In a way, it's like facing a long lost friend. So much happened since last time. What if nothing felt right anymore? What if everything went wrong and they didn't click like they used to? Her chest tightens with the very notion.

It's so easy to fall into that abyssal grip that tells you that nothing will ever be right again. The months of isolation and panic didn't do any good for her mental well-being, but…

...but, well, that's why he's going to be here.

Even though they were forced separated by border walls, watching the closure extend every month again and again. Even though she struggled to work in the swarms of frightened people and the threat of business closures and lockdown, even though he couldn't finish college and his country had shut down much harder than hers, even though it took what felt like eternity to get here… Here they are.

He's just on the other side of this door. This clear door leading to a big room full of luggage and people. The boy she'd often cry over not being able to touch or be near, the man she wants to spend the rest of her life with, whom she hasn't laid eyes on in a year. The nights of anguish and tears, the days of loneliness and depression, all seem so violently surreal and yet far away from the person she is in this moment.

Just a few steps, and she'll see him. It hurts to think about.

Len… Her love.

Her feet carry her forward, despite her mind moving a mile a minute and her courage crushed. Some deep part of her expects him not to be there when she walks in. As if he's a figment of her imagination, and the days leading up to this were part of her imagination. Hahaha… If that was the case, then this would be the sweetest, most painful dream she's had in awhile. A bitter pill to swallow, but not the first.

Numbly she pushes through the automatic door, taking hesitant steps into the wide room. As she expected, there's a crowd of people around the luggage lines. Her eyes do a quick involuntary scan of the area, and she doesn't see him. Her heart drops to the floor.

All of a sudden, it's like every inhibition she's had from the moment they'd planned the trip comes crashing down on her, causing her to hyperventilate. What if he was stuck in a different airport? What if he couldn't make it through customs? She hasn't seen any texts or calls from him in hours, so it's beyond possible. Ah, God, oh God, please…

That's when she catches a glimpse of gold, and her entire body freezes up on the spot.

A bobbing ponytail, grown out longer than she remembers and drapes over his shoulder. A thick winter coat, a backpack, and suitcase in hand, facing away from her— in fact, staring down at his phone.

Her breath catches so sharply in her throat she makes a squeaking sound.

As if it pulls his attention the boy glances up and back, locking eyes with her. Baby blues against icy azure, his dashing face hidden by the thick black mask but still so recognizable.

It's a moment that sends time, and everything else, to a screeching halt. Just for one, breathless moment.

Her mind is blank. Her heart has stopped functioning, her entire being seems to be on fire, and she can't quite process the very real fact that Len is standing just feet away.

Feet. Not miles. Not hundreds of miles away, not in another country. Here, in front of her, where she can see him. Where she can touch him, catch his scent, hold him close, hear his voice outside of the crackle and dysfunction of online chatting.

He's here. Right here.

She's moving before she's had a chance to think. She's darting forward through the throng of people, not caring who she brushes past even though the new normal threatens to keep them apart.

Then they're right in front of each other, within reaching distance, and the only thing she can hear is the way he says her name, like a whisper of autumn leaves, sweet and lulling.

"...Rin."

Heart suddenly too full, tears crash down over her mask, wetting the fabric He's already letting go of his luggage and moving to her.

Their fingers connect, and electricity courses between them, two pieces reconnecting after being apart.

Their chests are next, a hug so crushing that she can feel her ribs collapsing under the pressure, but she doesn't care. Her face becomes one with his coat, breathing in the faint scent of aftershave and something maple.

The masks are fought with for just a second, clearing just enough space that she can finally, _finally,_ feel the soft weight of his lips against hers.

The sweet, pure embrace of that moment, no matter what else was around them, or who was watching, was enough to bring her back. A thread of energy and power that had been missing for so long finally resurfaces, brought back to life by his presence, by the contact she had missed so much.

The endurance of months of sorrow and anger, or wondering if she'd ever be happy again, if there'd ever be a way to see him or if the pandemic would ruin their relationship— all of it comes to a head right here and now as they cling to another in the crowded airport lobby.

At last, at last….

...Everything will be okay again.


End file.
